“Where does she live?” asked the Duke.
Belinda sighed. “She went to a place called Hitchin, but I don’t know where it is, and I only recall it because it sounds like kitchen, and I think that is very droll, don’t you, sir?”
“Hitchin!” he exclaimed, his harassed air lightening a little. “But Hitchin lies only a few miles from here! I daresay no more than six or seven, perhaps not as much! If you think you would like to visit this friend, I will take you there tomorrow! Do you know her direction?”
“Oh, no!” said Belinda unconcernedly.
Again the Duke was dashed “Well, do you know her name?” he asked.
Belinda laughed merrily at this. “Why, of course I know her name! It is Maggie Street!”
“Then depend upon it we shall soon find her!” he said, much relieved.
At this moment, Mrs. Appleby entered the parlour, and announced that as Miss’s bedchamber was now ready for her she would escort Miss to it.
“Yes, please do so!” said the Duke. “And perhaps you would be so good as to bring up a glass of milk to her, for I fear she is rather hungry.”
“Very good, sir,” replied Mrs. Appleby stiffly. “Come with me, miss, if you please!”
She picked up the bandboxes, and swept them and Belinda inexorably out of the room, leaving the Duke feeling extremely exhausted, but not a little thankful that he was not to be saddled with Belinda for the rest of his life, as at one moment he had feared that he might be.
Chapter XII
The following morning, the Duke thought it wisest to visit Tom before that young gentleman had emerged from his room, to warn him that he had acquired a sister overnight. Tom was inclined to take this in bad part, giving it as his opinion that girls spoiled everything. When he learned that Belinda’s presence had made it necessary for the Duke to change his plans, his face fell perceptibly, and it was only an assurance that he should eventually be taken to London that enabled him to meet his new sister without overt hostility. He evinced little curiosity, which was a relief to the Duke, and, not having reached an impressionable stage in his career, was quite unmoved by the loveliness that presently burst upon him. He ate his breakfast in unusual silence, occasionally shooting a darkling look at Belinda, and lost no time in effacing himself when he had finished. The Duke sent him off to discover where he could hire a post-chaise-and-pair to carry the whole party to Hitchin that morning, for not only was he extremely anxious to hand Belinda over to her friend as soon as possible, but Belinda herself was troubled by fears that Mr. Liversedge might pursue and recapture her. It was in vain that the Duke explained to her that since Mr. Liversedge was neither her uncle nor her guardian he had no hold over her, and would scarcely dare to coerce her: she appeared to listen to his words, but it was apparent that they conveyed little to her intelligence.
“Tell me,” he said, “when you were in Oxford with Mrs.—Mrs.—I don’t recall the name, but the lady who was thought to be your aunt—”
“Oh, she was not my aunt!” Belinda said. “I did not like having to live with her at all, for she was so bothersome, and very often cross with me.”
“But who was she?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Mr. Liversedge was very friendly with her, and he said I should stay with her and do just what she told me.”
He could not help smiling. “And was that to make my—to make Mr. Ware fall in love with you?”
“Yes,” she replied innocently. “I did not mind that, for we went pleasuring together, you know, and he was excessively kind to me, and he said he would marry me, too, and then I should have been a grand lady, and had my carriage, and silk dress besides.”
“Did you wish very much to marry him?”
“Oh, no!” Belinda replied placidly. “I didn’t care, if only I might have all the things Uncle Swithin said I should. He said it would be more comfortable for me if Mr. Ware gave me a great deal of money, and I think it would have been, because he was so jealous, you know, that there was no bearing it. Why, when I only went out to get a pound of black pudding from the pork-butcher, and a gentleman carried the basket for me, there was such an uproar! And he read poetry to me, too.”
“That was certainly very bad!” the Duke said gravely. “But tell me what happened after Mr. Ware—when you were no longer expecting to marry him! Did you run away from that lady?”
“Oh, no, she would not keep me any longer, because she quarreled dreadfully with Uncle Swithin, and she said he was a Jeremy Diddler.”
“What in the world is that?” he enquired, amused.
“I don’t know, but I think Uncle Swithin wouldn’t pay her any money, and she said he had promised it to her for taking care of me. She was as cross as a cat! And Uncle Swithin told her how we should all of us have money from Mr. Ware, but there was an execution in the house, you know, and she would not stay there any more. It is very fidgeting to have an execution in your house, for they take away the furniture, and there is no knowing how to go on. So Uncle Swithin fetched me away in an old tub of a carriage, which was so horrid! I was stuffed to death! And we had to go in the middle of the night, and that was uncomfortable too.”
“He took you to that inn? Is it possible that he meant to keep you there?”
“Well, he could not help doing so,” explained Belinda. “Poor Uncle Swithin! he has so very little money left, and Mr. Mimms is his brother, so you see he does not have to pay him to stay there. And of course we was expecting Mr. Ware to send us a great sum of money, and then we might have been comfortable again. But Uncle Swithin says all is ruined, and it was my fault for not calling to Mr. Mimms to stop you when you went away. But he never told me I should do so!”
“Don’t you think,” he suggested gently, “that you will like just as well to go to your friend as to have a great sum of money?”
Belinda reflected, and shook her head. “No, for if I had the money I could also go to visit Maggie Street,” she said simply.
This was so unanswerable that the Duke abandoned the subject, together with a half-formed resolve to point out to Belinda the reprehensible nature of Mr. Liversedge’s attempts to extort money from undergraduates. Something told him that Belinda’s intelligence was not of the order that readily appreciated ethical considerations.
In a short time, Tom returned to the inn, his mission accomplished. If Mr. Rufford would step down to the George, he said, to confirm the arrangement he had made on his behalf, a chaise could be hired, and would be sent round to the White Horse as soon as it was needed.
The Duke was not very anxious to visit the George, where he had several times stopped on his way to his estates in Yorkshire, to change his horses, but he did not think that he had ever alighted there, and could only hope that he would not be recognized. He desired his protégés to pack their few belongings, and sallied forth, requesting Mrs. Appleby, whom he met at the foot of the stairs, to prepare his reckoning. Mrs. Appleby allowed him to see by her manner that he had sadly disappointed her; and the waiter, hovering in the background, plainly regarded him in the light of a hardened libertine.
In the event, no one whom he interviewed at the George showed the smallest sign of recognizing him. He thought the luck was miraculously with him, until it occurred to him, on his way back to the White Horse, that, had he wished to do it, he might have found it difficult to convince the landlord and the servants at the George that an unattended gentleman, staying at the White Horse and in need of a hired chaise, could possibly be his Grace the Duke of Sale. He reflected then that it was to be hoped he would have no occasion to prove his identity, since he had taken care to leave his visiting cards at Sale House, and had handed over to Gideon his seal ring.